


When the Weight Comes Down

by theimaginesyouneveraskedfor



Series: The Boys of Birch [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Biker AU, Dark!Steve, Dark!Steve Rogers - Freeform, F/M, Sequel, Spin-Off, biker!steve, non con, sister series, smalltown bringdown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:08:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24119272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theimaginesyouneveraskedfor/pseuds/theimaginesyouneveraskedfor
Summary: Your father’s a drunk, your mother a recluse, and you’re just another small town girl in Birch.Warnings: non-consent sex (series); nothing for this chapterThis is dark! (biker) Steve and explicit. 18+ only.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Reader
Series: The Boys of Birch [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2142258
Comments: 145
Kudos: 552





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This series features a very inexperienced and shy reader. Not so mouthy as my usual fare but I hope it’s still fun. I couldn’t resist a hot biker Steve spin-off. Most of this is already written and it’s looking like seven chapters total. Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)
> 
> I really hope you enjoy. 💋
> 
> <3 Let me know what you think with a comment and/or kudos! Love ya!

_Sister series to **[Smalltown Bringdown](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22680022/chapters/54207397)**_

**Chapter One: She Didn’t Know**

_There's a lot you can see when there's nothing to do_

💀

You stared out the window as you stood at the sink, your hands pruned in the lukewarm water as you scrubbed the last of the dishes. You could hear your mother in the hallway, wiping the walls. Again. Five, six times a day, she’d wipe down every inch of the place; gather up your father’s empties, and vacuum the old cigarette-scented carpets.

You didn’t remember a day in your life when your mother wasn’t manically tidying every inch of the place. Even when her lip was swollen or her eye was blackened. It was a religion to her. Cleanliness was next to godliness, after all. One of her many lessons.

She rarely left the house anymore. She had never been eager to go beyond the peeling walls but as you got older, she grew more reclusive. She got her check from the government, your father too, though his was often spent on beer and smokes. Some of hers too. 

The old house was ramshackle but someone had to pay for it. You’d worked at the bakery since you were sixteen; more than a decade now, closer to two. An excuse to get out as much as a means to pay for the roof over your head. Babs was like a second mother to you and always let you bring home the stale muffins and cookies.

Your eight hours was a brief respite from the home which had been your childhood prison. The cell without a door. Birch itself was impenetrable. Those born there seemed destined to die there.

You’d dreamt of leaving for years; in that very spot, as you washed the dishes and stared out at the lush grass. You’d float away to a world where you had the strength to walk away; from your paranoid mother and your volatile father. 

You belonged there though. You couldn’t leave knowing your father would beat your mother without a buffer between him. You knew one day the beer would push him over the edge. To leave would be to condemn her.

You pulled the plug and dried the plates one at the time, then the cups and the old bowls that belonged on a thrift shop shelf. Well, that’s where they came from. Your mother never bought nice things; your father would only break them.

Finished, you closed the cupboard and found your mother in the living room, sweeping the crumbs from your father’s old recliner into her hand. You straightened the pillows on the sagging couch and stood on the other side.

“Should I leave the leftovers in the stove for Pa?” You asked.

“It’s late,” She checked the old clock. It was broken. She stood and cupped the crumbs in her hand. “What time is it anyway?”

“Almost nine.” You yawned. You would have to wake up at five to get to work to do the opening bake. “I should probably lay down soon.”

“Would you grab some more vinegar tomorrow?” She asked. “And… a new mop.”

“What happened to the old one?” You blinked.

She looked down guiltily. Another casualty to your father’s temper.

“Ma,” You sighed. “Why do you let him break everything.”

“Better than him breaking me,” She muttered. 

You hung your head and touched your forehead. You wanted to ask her why she stayed, but you had too. You were little better than her. You were both stuck.

“You didn’t give him any off your stipend, did you?”

She frowned. She had.

“The electricity is due,” You said. “Tell me you held onto at least something.”

“I’ll pawn another ring.” She mumbled.

“No,” You waved her away. “No. Don’t.”

“But--”

“I’ll figure it out,” You huffed. “Like I always do.”

You left her there and went to your room. You closed the door and turned on the small lamp beside your bed. You reached under your pillow and pulled out the cracked copy of Frankenstein. 

You remembered when you were fourteen and your mother had found it there. A girl at the grocery store had told you she was reading it for class. You always wondered what they did at the school. Your mother schooled you herself. Times had changed and kids were rotten. She didn’t need you corrupted by the wilting branches of Birch.

Your mother had never read it herself so she confiscated it as filth. _A monster!_ Well, you had sneaked into her room and stolen it right back. You were smarter after that; you hid all your good books as you kept the bland ones on your shelf.

Even when you were of age, well beyond truly, you wondered what other people did. Normal people. Working at the bakery, you made up a story for each customer who came in. And when you walked by the bar with Cleopatra over its door, you dreamt of the Egyptian queen and her many lovers. The world was behind a glass; passing you by as you stood still.

You sighed and opened the book as you laid back. A monster betrayed by his creator. So despised and reviled that his heart turned sour. A monster who was more human than his maker. A being who only wanted love. A soul destroyed by neglect.

You didn’t recall falling asleep but when you woke, the crickets chirped loudly outside your window. You yawned and sat up. The light from the living room streamed down the hall and under your door. You marked your page and tucked the book between your bedframe and mattress.

Your mother was in the living room. She sat on the couch as she held a framed cross-stitch and wove roses into the faded white cloth. You checked the time on the kitchen stove. 1:47 am. 

“Why don’t you go to bed?” You asked.

“Your pa hasn’t come home.” She said. “You know I worry for him.”

“It’s not even last call,” You countered. “Go, get some sleep.”

“I’ll wait for him.”

You chewed your lip as you put your hands on your hips. You went to her and stilled her needle.

“He’ll be home in a couple hours.” You assured her. “Besides, you know how he is when he’s drunk.”

She looked down and pulled away from you. You shook your head and crossed the room. As you entered the hallway and headed for the front door, your mother rose from the couch and her soft footsteps followed you. 

“Where are you going?” She asked.

“To get him, so you can sleep.” You shoved your feet into your shoes.

“Oh no, don’t do that, sweet pea,” She said as she clutched the wooden frame. “You’ll only make him mad and, oh, I don’t want you in that bar.” She lowered her voice as she came closer. “It’s full of those bikers.”

“So, go to bed,” You turned to her.

She scrunched her lips and you knew she wouldn’t. 

“Fine,” She relented. “But don’t talk to anyone. There are dangerous men there.”

You stared at her for a moment before you turned and pulled open the door. Your heart beat furiously as the screen door clattered behind you and you tripped down the front steps. You’d only ever walked by The Asp but never went in. You’d seen the men who went in and out and mounted their big bikes, but you kept to the other side of the street.

The walk wasn’t very long, like any in Birch. The spotlights illuminated Cleopatra’s breast and the snake at her throat. You stood on the curb as you thought of crossing the street. _Just do it._ You’d just get your father and go. _That was it._

You hesitated and nearly fell as you stepped down onto the road. As you came up on the other side, a shadow moved and you flinched. A man in leather stood beside the door with his thick arms crossed, a bandana over his thinning hair. You stared at him and then door as you stopped before it.

“Well,” He said. “You going in?”

“I, uh, yeah, I’m just… getting my father.” You explained.

“Right,” He scoffed. “I don’t give a fuck.”

You pursed your lips and pushed through the door. Inside it smelled of alcohol and sweat. There was a group of men at one of the round tables and a couple around the pool table. Your father sat along the bar, two other drunks not far from him. He sucked on a brown bottle as he grumbled to himself.

You swallowed and made yourself step away from the door. You neared the bar and a woman looked up. She didn’t look very happy as she asked you what you wanted. You shook your head. You’d seen her before. You were sure she worked at the diner but you must have been wrong.

“Pa,” You leaned on the stool next to your father. 

“Huh? What’r’you doin’ here?” He slurred.

“I’m here to take you home.” You said.

“Sure,” He laughed. “Got ‘nother bottle then I’ll go when I feel like.”

“Ma’s waiting,” You insisted. “Come on.”

You tugged on him and he knocked over his half-finished beer. You stepped back at the splash and he staggered to his feet.

“You little brat, I tol’ya leave m’alone,” He snarled. “Fuck’s sakes.”

“You’re drunk. You’ll be lucky if you make it home,” You argued. “I’m trying to help… you got beer at home.”

“And you,” He sneered. “I dun’ wan’ drink there.”

He wobbled on his feet and caught the edge of the bar.

“Beer,” He ordered the bartender who looked over his shoulder. She didn’t move. “S’matter, I got money.”

A man with dark hair shifted in his seat as if to stand and another nudged his shoulder and rose instead. He was tall, a thick beard to match his light brown hair, and blue eyes which sparked as he rounded his table. His jacket was marked with the badge of the club. You grabbed your father’s elbow and he shook you off.

“Looks like you’re done for the night,” The man said as he stopped in front of your father.

“I don’--”

“Excuse me,” The man interrupted his argument. “It’s not a request.”

Your breath was caught in your chest. You’d never heard anyone speak to your father like that. 

“I’ll… I’ll get him home,” You said meekly. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” The man looked at you. “You don’t need to apologize for him.”

“Come on,” You whispered and grabbed your father again. 

He followed you. Barely. He stumbled halfway to the door and swore as he fell to his knees and nearly took you down with him. You bent and tried to pull him up and he batted you away as he rolled onto his back. His eyes were almost entirely closed as his hand fell to his stomach and he gave a loud snort.

Two boots came up on the other side of him. You looked up. It was that man again.

“I’m sorry. He fell. I’ll get him up.” You pulled on your father but he was too heavy. You could barely get his shoulders off the floor.

The man grabbed him and lifted him easily. He stretched his arm around your father and you stood.

“I’ll help ya, doll,” He smiled. You couldn’t.

“Really, it’s fine. He’ll wake up and--”

“Let me help you, doll,” He hushed you. “You’ll never get him home by yourself.”

“I can’t--I--” You gulped. Your mother had told you not to talk to anyone. You looked at your father. The man was right. You’d never get him home. “Okay. Thank you.”

He nodded you out the door and followed as you scurried ahead of him. Your father’s feet dragged heavily and you cringed. As you came out into the cool air, the man stepped up beside you, your father on the other side of him. You turned him in the direction of your house and he dragged your father along.

You were quiet. You didn’t know what to say. Perhaps it was better you said nothing. At the bakery, it was easy. You just had to ask people what they wanted. At home, neither of your parents said much; least of all, your father.

“So your Dorritt’s daughter?” He used your last name. “Old man ain’t very talkative.”

You nodded and kept your eyes on your feet.

“Your name?” He ventured. You cleared your throat before you found your voice to answer him. “I’m Steve.” He offered in return.

You were silent again.

“I don’t know you,” He said. “I know everyone in Birch.”

“Well, I… I don’t go out much, I guess.” You replied.

“Oh shit,” He scoffed. “You were the girl who was home schooled.”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t need to.

“We were always jealous of you,” He chuckled. “Hated going to school.”

“I still-- I still had class.” You said. “Just… my ma was my teacher.”

“Ha, wouldn’t expect him to be teaching grammar,” He gestured to your father. “You still live with them?”

You scratched your neck and nodded.

“Nothing wrong with that. Just curious.” He said. “Kinda… respectable. Helping them out and all.”

You were too ashamed to tell him that if you didn’t, no one would. That if you didn’t, your mother likely wouldn’t be able to keep up much longer.

“You’re like your pa,” He mused. “Not much on talking.”

“Sorry,” You said softly.

“But you’re a lot more considerate,” He said. “Apologizing for nothing.”

“So--”

“There you go again,” He laughed. “Look, doll, it’s fine. You don’t gotta talk. Don’t gotta apologize.”

You continued on and your house came into sight. Your father’s old mower rusting in the moonlight as the broken Ford loomed in the driveway. You helped Steve get your father up the front steps and opened the door for him. Your mother appeared in the hallway and gasped as she saw your father and the man who held him up.

“Ma, he’s just helping me get Pa home,” You assured her. “You know how he drinks and--”

She nodded frantically and backed up into the front room. You waved Steve through and directed him to drop your father on the couch. Steve looked around and his lip twitched. His eyes returned to you, clung to you, and he smirked.

“Well, you have a good night, Mrs. Dorritt,” He nodded to your mother then you, “And Miss Dorritt.”

“You too.” You breathed as your mother squeezed your arm.

He turned slowly and you both were still as you watched him go. The front door shut and your mother rushed down the hall. She locked the door quickly as you peeked around the door frame. She turned back and pushed herself against the door.

“I told you not to talk to anyone,” She said.

“I didn’t mean to. Pa, he just, keeled over, and Steve--”

“Steve!” She stormed towards you. “That man was one of those bikers. You better leave him alone. Pray he leaves you alone.”

“I didn’t--”

“Bad enough your pa goes down there,” She slipped past you and looked down at your father. “He’s better off drinking on the porch. No one to knock him one.”

“I wouldn’t blame them if they did,” You hissed. “It wasn’t me, ma. It was him.”

“I told you not to go,” She snapped.

“Yeah, I know,” You sighed as you turned to head back to your room. “You told me.”


	2. Ultra Mundane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: non-consent sex (series); nothing for this chapter
> 
> This is dark! (biker) Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I’ll spoil my boos and my bees. Hope you enjoy part two; it’s probably my fave chapter tbh honest. So fun to write! Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)
> 
> I really hope you enjoy. 💋
> 
> <3 Let me know what you think with a comment! Love ya!

_Feel the ultra mundane, Of another life, A poet in the service_

💀💀

You liked opening shifts, especially as the days got warmer. Spring wore on with as many sunny days as rainy days. That morning, you woke to a thick fog and the threat of rain floated in the air. You pulled on the crinkly raincoat and headed out. You were still yawning from the hectic night; you hadn’t gotten much sleep as your mind flitted back to the bar; the man and his intent blue eyes.

You unlocked the door, certain to turn the latch behind you. You had an hour to get everything in the oven and push yesterday’s remnants to the front of the display. You hung your coat in the back room and pulled on your apron and hairnet. Babs would be in at noon but the high school girl, Marcia, was due at opening.

The spatter of rain tapped on the window as you started your opening routine. It was peaceful. Despite your innate shyness, it was one of the few times you were completely alone. No customers, no neurotic mother, no drunken father, just you and the ovens.

That day’s special was cinnamon buns. They’d be placed in the cover glass platter just beside the till with a little card you’d made yourself. Uneven roses along thorny vines bordered the edge and displayed the one-day price. 

The buns were cool enough for you to start icing as you flipped the sign to open and let Marcia in. You went about your task as Marcia stood at the till. She was part-time; only worked on the weekends. She was bubbly and giggly. She told you stories about her classmates and the drama which seemed fit to a midday soap opera. In a way, you envied her. Well, in all ways, you did.

The Sunday rush began at ten, just after church service. The few tables in the bakery quickly filled as you set out the carafes with coffee and tea. Despite the downpour, the elderly crowd ventured the half-block from the steepled church and waited in line for their treats.

After noon, the flow of customers lulled as it usually did. Babs relieved Marcia of her half-shift and helped you mark down what was left of the older batches to half-off. The tinny bell over the door rang as Babs worked at cleaning pans in the back room. You looked up and your mouth fell open at the startlingly familiar face.

The man, Steve, ducked through the door. His hair was darkened by the rain and little droplets clung to his thick beard. He smoothed back his hair as his eyes glimmered and he smiled at you. You snapped your mouth shut and placed the last loaf of discount bread on the shelf.

“Hello,” You greeted him as you went to the till. “Can I get you something today?”

He neared the other side and his fingers tapped on the counter.

“It’s ugly out there,” He glanced over his shoulder.

“Heh, yeah,” You said awkwardly and ran your thumbs along the aged till. “Our cinnamon buns are on special. Just a few left.”

He tilted his head and leaned on the counter.

“You didn’t forget me already,” He raised his brows.

“No, no, I… remember,” You looked down at the faded numbers.

“How’s your pa?” He asked.

“He’s… fine, I’m sure.” You said quietly. 

“You make it yourself?” He tapped the glass lid of the platter. You nodded.

“It’s Babs’ recipe,” You muttered. “I just put it in the oven.”

“I’ll take it,” He reached for his wallet. “And coffee?”

“I’ll have to put a pot on if you don’t mind the wait,” You said.

“I’m in no rush to go back out,” He assured you as the windows shook at the rising winds outside. “Thunderstorms tonight.”

“Mmhmm,” You punched in his order. “Anything else?”

“Cinnamon raisin bread?” He read the board above the loaves. “Is it any good?”

“If you like sweet stuff,” You looked over at the shelf.

“I love sweet stuff,” He said. “I’ll take a loaf.”

“Sliced?” You asked.

“Please,” He answered and you grabbed him a bag.

You returned to the counter and read out his total. He handed you a bill and your fingers brushed against his palm as he took his change. He dropped it in the tip cup and winked. You bit your cheek and grabbed a plate for his bun. You took it out with the tongs and slid it across to him with a knife and fork. 

He thanked you and you told him to sit and you’d bring him coffee when it was ready. He reluctantly backed away and sat at the table closest to the counter. You turned to load a fresh filter into the machine and scooped the grinds in carefully. You grabbed the little tray of creamers and sugar packets and rounded the counter to bring it to him.

“I forgot to ask if you wanted decaf,” You set it down. “I’m sorry.”

“Regular’s fine,” He leaned back in his chair. “You like working here?”

“Um, sure,” You shrugged and made to turn away. 

“Hey, wait,” He said and glanced around the empty bakery. “What’s the rush? Not very busy in here.”

“Your coffee,” You uttered as the grind of the machine sounded behind you.

“I’m patient,” He assured you. “I just wanna talk.”

“Well, I’m working and I shouldn’t--”

“I’ll take the blame, doll,” He said. “Your ma seems like a nice lady.”

You looked away as you rubbed your arm. You shrugged again.

“What? You don’t think she’s nice?”

“She is…” You picked at your sleeve. “But… she doesn’t like bikers.”

He chuckled and cut into his bun. You tried to walk away again.

“She’s a smart lady then,” He said. “I don’t like them much myself.”

You hovered awkwardly at the other side of his table. He chewed and wiped the corner of his mouth.

“And you? You hate bikers, too?”

“Well, I…” You licked your dry lips and his eyes followed the movement. “I never thought much about it, I guess.”

“What time you done, doll?”

You blinked and frowned. You glanced over at the swinging door to the back room. The clink and clank of pans continued as Babs went about her work.

“Why?” You asked.

“I’ll drive you home,” He said as he looked through the window. “It’s a bit wild out there.”

“No, you really-- I can get home.” You slowly inched away. “But thank you.”

“I got the truck.” He insisted. “ Don’t like taking the bike out much in this weather.”

“Really, I’m okay,” You backed up. “I should get your coffee.”

“What time?” He asked again. 

You stopped at the corner of the counter. You stared at him as he dropped his fork and took a bite out of the bun. He watched you closely.

“Two o’clock,” You peeked at the clock; it was already after one. “But you don’t need to--”

“I’ll take my time then,” He said. “And you take yours, doll.”

💀

You were fifteen minutes over time when Babs finally assured you she could close on her own. You were hoping she’d ask you to stay so you had an excuse to send Steve away. You’d stay even if she didn’t pay. 

The thought of being alone with the man was terrifying. You’d only ever been alone with your father and he barely acknowledged you outside of asking for another beer, berating you, or worse.

You untied your apron and hung it on the hook and took your coat. You pulled it on and grabbed your bag before you pushed through into the cafe. Babs followed but drew you back into the kitchen as she saw Steve standing by the window.

“How long has he been here?” She asked as the door swung back into place.

“Almost an hour,” You said evasively. “He’s leaving now.”

She was silent as she stared at you. Her rosy cheeks paled.

“With you?”

You looked down. She tutted and touched your elbow.

“I tried to say no but… it’s just a ride. He’s being nice.” You squeaked.

“Nice? Those men aren’t nice.” She hissed. “You be careful.”

“He has no reason to hurt me,” You argued.

“No reason? He doesn’t need one.”

“Babs, look at me,” You frowned. “Come on.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” She warned. “He definitely will.”

“I don’t… know what to do,” You said quietly. “To make him go.”

“You call me when you get home,” She drew you into a hug. “Twenty minutes our I’m closing early and coming to find you.”

“You don’t really think--”

“I don’t know what to think, sweets,” She said. “But I know his type are up to no good.”

You hugged your bag and nodded. “I’ll call.”

“Your ma wouldn’t want you hanging ‘round that man,” She tisked.

“I know,” You put your hand on the door. “I’m not too keen on it either.”

You pushed through once more and hesitantly rounded the counter. Steve turned away from his vigil at the window; the rain had slowed but the sky was getting darker. He had his loaf of bread in hand. You kept your bag in your arms as you squeezed it tighter and tighter.

“Sorry, I forgot… to tidy the racks,” You lied. “And my ma will be waiting for me.”

“I’m sure she will,” He went to the door. “Good thing you’re not walking.”

“Thank you, again.” You neared as he opened the door with a dull chime. “You don’t--”

“You act like I’m the first person to do you a favour,” He quipped as you pulled up your hood, your other arm still wrapped around your bag.

“My pa will be in a state too,” You stepped out ahead of him as he zipped up his leather jacket. 

You turned towards your house but he caught your arm. He pulled you back and guided you down to the large truck double-parked in front of Lloyd’s bookshop. It was a lot newer than your father’s and it actually ran. He opened the door as he turned his chin down as the rain slaked over his head and you climbed up quickly.

He closed the door and rushed around the front of the truck. He got in and shoved his keys in the slot as he tossed the bread behind his seat. He turned the engine and let the car idle as he reached into his jacket. He pulled out his phone and wiped the stray droplet off the screen with the thigh of his jeans. He dropped it in the cupholder and shifted gears before he pulled out.

“You work tomorrow?” He asked.

“Yeah,” You answered as you watched the rivulets streaming down the window. The steady beat of the windshield wipers interspersed the patter of rain. 

“You ever get a day off?”

“Wednesdays and Thursdays,” You regretted answering. You should have lied but you were never very good at that.

He slowed at the sign and you felt him looking at you. You were too scared to look back. He slowly hit the gas and you leaned against the door as you clung to your page.

“Wednesday night,” He said. “How about you come down to the bar for a drink?”

You glanced over at him but quickly turned your eyes ahead of you. Your lips parted. You were silent.

“Hey?” He prodded.

“I don’t drink,” You said.

“Jeez, I’m not asking you to pick up a habit, just one drink.” He urged.

“My ma--”

“How old are you?” He asked as he came in sight of your house. “What are we? Couple years apart? You’re an adult. Let your ma enjoy an empty nest for the night.”

You inhaled and sucked your lip in nervously. As he came closer to your house, your stomach flipped.

“I don’t know.” You muttered.

“I’ll be by at nine to get you. Plenty of time to get yourself sorted.” He said.

“I didn’t say yes,” You replied as he stopped behind your father’s busted Ford.

His eyes flashed as he turned to you and you looked back shyly.

“Wednesday. Nine.” He stated as his arm stretched between your seats, his hand on your headrest. “Tell your ma I’ll have you home by midnight. She doesn’t need to worry so much.”

Your lashes fluttered and you bent your head. You stared at the wet spots on your canvas bag. You unbuckled your seatbelt and reached for the door handle. His hand fell to your shoulder to stop you.

“Wait,” He grabbed his phone. “You’re number?”

“I don’t--” You stared at his cell and pursed your lips. “I don’t have a cell phone. I can give you my house number.”

“No phone?” He repeated. “No, it’s okay.” He fixed the string of your raincoat. “I’ll see you ‘round.”

You pulled the handle and tumbled out onto your feet. The mud squelched around your shoes. You should’ve worn your boots but you had only the sense to bring your coat. You didn’t look back as you closed the door and rushed up to your porch. The curtains along the front room moved as you opened the screen door. The tires squelched behind you and you rushed inside. Your mother greeted you from the living room doorway.

“I told you not to talk to that man,” She said.

“Ma,” You hung your bag and undid your coat. “I tried. Okay? I’m tired. I worked--”

“And I’ve been cleaning this mess all day,” She huffed. “Your pa made a hell of a mess when he finally woke up.”

“Ma, please,” You kicked your shoes off. “Just-- I just got home.”

“I don’t want him around here,” She crossed her arms.

You dragged your feet down the hall and stopped in front of her. 

“Neither do I,” You said. “Maybe next time, you can try telling him.”

You turned and went to your room. You closed yourself in and felt your heart racing. Wednesday wasn’t very far at all. Three days. Barely a wink in a small town like this.


	3. Everytime You Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: non-consent sex (series); nothing for this chapter
> 
> This is dark! (biker) Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s part three. Hope you enjoy the subtle escalation of dark! Steve. Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)
> 
> I really hope you enjoy. 💋
> 
> <3 Let me know what you think with a comment! Love ya!

_[Said, "My girl don't just walk, she unfurls"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F-fHN2eVNgw)  
With motorcycle language  
He stumbled through his slang pledge  
Then he dragged the mud for wedding pearls_

💀💀💀

Your days passed at the bakery as if nothing had changed. Babs didn’t ask about Steve but you could tell she wanted to. You could tell she was reassured as he hadn’t made a second appearance. And your mother. She barely spoke to you at all now and when she did, she accused you of foolishness. She didn’t believe that you had tried to say no. That you had tried to avoid the leather-clad man.

He lingered at the back of your mind but you tried not to think about him too much. Only when you walked by the bar that was throne to the ancient Egyptian queen. You wondered why they had chosen her for their moniker. The doomed queen and her many, alleged, lovers.

On Tuesday, you went the other way. You stood outside Lloyd’s and stared in at the new fantasy novel. You never shopped much from the bestsellers, you stuck to the used shelves; often you kept to the library. That was free.

You stepped inside and found the old man bent over his desk. He held a long pair of tweezers as he put together a ship in a bottle. He barely looked at you as he said hello. You smiled and mumbled your response before you dipped down your usual aisle; historical fiction and centuries old fantasy.

You didn’t see anything interesting so you moved along. You neared the shelf of biographies and found the woman from the bar; the new bartender. She didn’t seem to notice you as she read the back of a book about Katherine Hepburn. You stepped up beside her and pulled out a biography of Elizabeth Taylor. As you did, another fell and you bent to pick it up. The woman jumped as you stood and held both the books.

“I didn’t see you there,” She turned to you and glanced at the books in your hands. “Take the bottom one. The top one is… mere gossip.”

“Oh?” You looked down. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” She turned over the book in her hand and slapped it against her other palm. “Do I know you?”

“Um, I’ve seen you at the diner… but the other night you were at the bar,” You put the first book back and kept the second. 

She thought for a moment then nodded.

“You left with Steve.” She said.

“Well, he helped me with my pa,” You stammered. “I didn’t leave with him.”

“Helped you?” Her expression turned stony. “Well, that was nice of him.”

You turned back to the shelf and read the titles quietly. She glanced over a few more herself but only held onto the one.

“Right. See ya around, maybe.” She said.

You nodded and she slowly stepped around you. She was halfway down the aisle before you found your courage.

“Wait,” You spun around and took a few steps toward her. “The way you-- What do you mean it was nice of him?”

She laughed sardonically, her lips curled sourly.

“Birds of a feather,” She said. “I… know a few of his friends; they aren’t very friendly. Not exactly the helpful type.” Her nostrils flared. “What I mean is that he is not a nice man. Not a good one, in the least.”

You blinked at her dumbly.

“Because he’s a biker?” You asked.

“No, because he’s a criminal. And an asshole.” She snarled. “Just… trust me. You’re best off staying home and reading. The Asp is no place for girls like you.”

You felt like your skin was on fire. You clutched the book and shifted on your feet as she went to walk away.

“How--” You caught yourself and she stopped again.

“How what?” She asked.

“Well, how do I tell him no?” 

She squinted. Her forehead wrinkled and she stepped closer.

“What do you mean?” 

“He… asked me to have a drink with him, I told him I didn’t want to but… he wouldn’t listen.”

Her face fell and she shook her head. She swore under her breath.

“Well, you don’t,” She leaned a hand on the shelf. “You can’t. He’s one of them.” She sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry. Why are you sorry?”

She shrugged. “I guess because I know what that’s like.”

“Oh,” You uttered and she gave a weak smile before she turned away again.

You watched her go and she stopped at the door to glance back at you. She gave a small wave and stepped out into the street. You slowly trode down the aisles and neared the man at the counter. Larry, Lu? You always forgot.

“Bag?” He asked as he punched the buttons on the till.

“No thank you,” You said as you dug in your purse. Your hand shook as you handed him a bill.

💀

You weren’t sure what to wear. You knew it wasn’t a real date. No, that was dumb. It was a drink. Just a drink. You’d watched enough prime time television to know that meant nothing. And watched enough to know that your wardrobe was painfully out of date. Your old jeans and tees would do on any other day but you weren’t sure that was proper attire for… a drink.

You pulled on the yellow dress with daisies. The skirt hung past your knees and the cap sleeves were dated. You pulled on a crochet cardigan over it and the pair of slingback flats from the back of your closet. You sprayed yourself with the white rose perfume you rarely touched to hide the thrift store scent which clung to you.

You looked okay. You didn’t have any make-up. You never wore it. And your hair looked better than most days; you had tried. Your mother appeared in your door as you grimaced at your reflection.

“Don’t you look nice.” She crossed her arms.

“Ma,” You buttoned your cardigan. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re so naive.” She hissed. “You have no idea what this man could do to you.”

“Ma, please, it’s just a drink.” You neared her. “I didn’t have much of a choice.”

“And when he tries to stick his hand up your skirt, Hmm? You gonna have a choice then?”

You’d never heard her sound so hateful. You flinched.

“No, he doesn’t… want that,” You grabbed your small purse from your dresser and checked that your little wallet was inside. “Ma, really.”

“Do you really think he wants anything else?” She sneered. “He’s playing with you.”

“Maybe. Well, of course, he is, but are you going to stop him? Is Pa gonna get off his fat ass and stop him?” You huffed. 

“You think this makes you an adult? Acting like this?”

“You married Pa,” You edged past her. “You know all about marrying an asshole.”

“Don’t you say that,” She followed you down the hall.

“It’s the truth.” You stopped at the front door and opened it to peer through the torn screen. “I might as well accept that I’ll never get out of Birch. I’ll be lucky to get out of this house.”

“Don’t act like we never did anything for you.”

“I never said that,” You turned back to her. “But you can’t say I never did anything for you.”

“Sweet pea…” She clasped her hands together.

“Worry about Pa,” You said as you grasped the door handle and you heard your father swearing at the baseball game. “Worry about yourself. You know how he gets.”

“I’m only worried about you.” She argued.

“Don’t,” You pushed the door open. “I’m not a kid anymore.”

You pulled the big door shut behind you and let the screen door bounce against the frame. You sat on the steps and stared into the dusk. The days got longer and longer as the nights dwindled. You played with the thin strap of your bag and tapped your foot on the rotting wood.

The roar of an engine tore through the air and you stood as you watched Steve approach on the dark beast. The motorcycle huffed a stream of exhaust from its tail and you fidgeted. He stopped just before the yellowed grass and you slowly descended the bottom step.

He let the engine idle as it quieted to a steady rumble. He waved you over with a leather-gloved hand and you neared reluctantly. He smiled at you and gestured to the seat behind him.

“Helmet’s in the saddle bags,” He called over the engine. “Keep your legs wide. Don’t wanna touch that exhaust.” 

You nodded and hooked your purse around your body. You went to the saddle bag and fumbled with the buckle. You found the helmet inside and pulled it on. You struggled with the strap and Steve chuckled as he beckoned you closer. He helped secure it and his leather glove tickled your jaw.

“Get on,” He said.

You climbed up, nearly falling as you did, and caught yourself on his shoulder. He seemed barely bothered by the slip and you swung your leg over. You sat there, awkwardly and leaned back. He took your arm and pulled it around his side.

“You’ll have to hold on,” He said. 

He slowly backed up, a foot at a time and angled the bike around. You held onto him and looked back at the house. Your mother was at the window, watching. You lowered your eyes and the scent of leather filled your nostril. Steve kicked off and the bike tore down the drive and onto the road. You clung tighter to him as you let out a surprised yelp.

It was only a few minutes before you reached the main road and he pulled into the side lot of The Asp. He came to a stop and waited as you carefully climbed off. You were thankful to be back on the ground. He kicked the stand down as he killed the engine and got off himself.

He took off his helmet and took yours from you. You gripped your purse tightly, nervously. He guided you around the front of the building, his hand on the small of your back. Every time you tried to make space between you, he got closer.

You stepped inside to the same smells as before. Your stomach turned but you kept on. Steve led you to a table and offered you a seat beside another man in leather. You weren’t expecting a crowd but it might save you some awkwardness. You sat as he took the chair beside you and rested his hand on yours, just behind your shoulder.

“This is Bucky,” He pointed to the man at your other shoulder. “Boss man. Sam, Danny, and Reese.”

The men nodded at you, more interested in their beer and their own conversations than your arrival. The only who really acknowledged you was that beside you.

“You didn’t tell me you were bringing someone,” Bucky sat back and raised two fingers to signal the bar then looked at you. “Good to meet ya.”

“You too,” You mumbled and cradled your purse in your lap.

“Whatcha drinkin’?” Steve asked as the server neared. 

It was the girl from the bookstore. As she came around, Bucky reached over and caressed her hip. She stiffened but said nothing on it.

“Refill,” Bucky said. “Thanks.”

“A bud,” Steve said tersely. He exchanged a sharp look with the woman. “And--”

You blinked as he waited for you to order. You shrugged.

“I.. don’t know. I don’t really drink.” You muttered.

“She’ll have one too,” Steve filled in.

The woman nodded and strode away. She returned shortly with a tray of tall glasses and you thanked her. She gave you a sympathetic glance before she left you again.

“That’s a… unique dress,” Steve commented as he touched your skirt. “I think my mom had one just like it.”

You scrunched your lips and reached for the beer. You didn’t know what to say.

“Didn’t mean it was bad,” He said and you recoiled at the hoppy beer. “You’ll get used to the taste.”

You nodded and put the pint down. He took his and drank deeply.

“You ever play pool?” He asked. “I could teach you?”

You peeked over at the table. You didn’t like the idea of being bent over like the men did as they hit the balls. You shook your head.

“No, thank you.” You said.

“Poker?” He chanced.

“I don’t know,” You picked at your sweater. “I…”

“It’s okay.” His hand settled on your knee. “You don’t need to be so nervous. I like you. Quiet as you are.”

You gave a sheepish smile and took a drink; a deep gulp. You glanced at the bottle cap clock over the bar. You couldn’t wait for the night to end.

💀

You were wobbly as you stood up. A second glass went down easier and you weren’t so bothered by the grainy taste, though you still wondered how your father could drink so much. Steve angled you around the table as you tried not to betray how unsteady you felt. He grabbed your arm as you got ahead of him.

“Hold up, doll,” He pulled you back beside him. “It’s barely eleven.”

You were silent as he kept pace with you and followed you out the door. The night air was cool and a slap on your hot cheeks.

“I’ll walk you home,” He offered. “Beer went down too easy.”

“Mmhmm,” You hugged yourself, the air seeping through the crocheted cardigan.

“You got tomorrow off, you said?” He asked and you felt his hand on your back again.

“Yeah,” You answered quietly.

“How about I take ya for a ride? A nice long one.” He rubbed your lower back.

“I don’t know. I got a lot to do.”

“Chores? Scared to disappoint your mommy?”

“N-no,” You wavered slightly as your toe caught a crack in the sidewalk. “No. I just… I have things to do.”

“They can wait,” He brought his arm up and slung it over your shoulders. “Doll… you gotta let loose.”

You grabbed his hand and stopped suddenly. You pushed it off your shoulder and turned to him.

“Steve, I don’t think this is--”

His other hand came up to frame your face and you were stunned by his suddenness. He kissed you and the air went out of you. A peck on with a tickle of tongue along your lips. You squeaked in surprise and pulled back. You touched your lips; your first kiss.

You spun and quickly hurried away from him. He followed and caught your hand. He drew you back once more.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

“Steve, please.” You pleaded. “I just want to go home.”

“I wasn’t rough,” He said. “So, what’s the matter?”

You looked at your feet. He kept hold of your hand and you swayed a little. The beer made your eyelids droop.

“Steve, I’ve never… kissed anyone before,” You admitted as you dared to look at him. The street light caught the blue of his eyes and illuminated the angles of his face. “And I just…” You wrestled with him until you loosed your hand from his. “I don’t know.”

“What?” He stopped you before you could run away, his hands on your arms. “How’s it that you never been kissed?”

“Stop,” You said. “Please. I’m not that girl.”

“Not what girl?”

“The girl you kiss,” You huffed. “I wanna go home.”

“You’re the girl I wanna take for a ride.” He dropped his hands and grabbed yours. He turned you towards your house and continued down the street. “Tomorrow at noon.”


	4. Twist My Arm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: non-consent sex (series); nothing for this chapter
> 
> This is dark! (biker) Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you’re having as much fun with this as I am. Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)
> 
> I really hope you enjoy. 💋
> 
> <3 Let me know what you think with a comment! Love ya!

_[Culled and wooed, bitten, chewed](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3D-0mDHCusIyg&t=MzY1NDNiZGYyMzBmMTkxODVjN2FlN2NkMTJhOWIxNzliMTE1ODUzMiw4NWY4ZWVkODI1MjlkNGZmYWMyNTdkMjY2NzU3ZDJiMjdkZDlmZmRh) _

_[It won't hurt if you don't move](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3D-0mDHCusIyg&t=MzY1NDNiZGYyMzBmMTkxODVjN2FlN2NkMTJhOWIxNzliMTE1ODUzMiw4NWY4ZWVkODI1MjlkNGZmYWMyNTdkMjY2NzU3ZDJiMjdkZDlmZmRh) _

**💀💀💀💀**

Your mother was awake when you got home but didn’t acknowledge you as she rinsed out your father’s empty beer cans and tossed them in the bin. Your father on the other hand snored in his recliner as the television continued to blare. You said nothing as you retreated to your room.

You set your alarm early and laid down in your old tee with the pink teddy bear on the front. You slept in spurts, jolting awake as your dream returned to the bar. With you trapped in the dim place and cornered by dark shadows. Your little digital clock roused you for good and you tiptoed to the bathroom.

You showered, dressed in a pair of jeans and a blouse with little frills along the neckline and sleeves beneath a sheer grey cardigan. You grabbed your boxy purse and shoved your wallet inside along with the pile of bills from the kitchen counter. Your mother was awake too but still silent as she ate a bowl of yogurt and granola. You left her like that.

The bank was mostly empty when you arrived. You went to the teller and paid a portion of each bill. You’d have to wait until your next check to cover the rest. Another call to the hydro company and hopes that you’d have hot water for the last half of the month.

You stopped at the diner for breakfast. You didn’t have the stomach for more than eggs and toast.Or the pockets. You had a tea and left a tip you’d regret. You were back on the street just after ten but had little desire to return home. Yet, staying in town was a prospect you weren’t fond of either.

You crossed the street and waved at Babs through the window as you passed the bakery. She smiled and looked back to her customer. You continued onto Lloyd’s and dipped inside. The man, Lu, you’d heard the girl call him, you were sure, sat at his counter with small glasses at the end of his nose and a book open.

“You again?” He remarked as he looked up. 

“Hi,” You said softly. 

He smiled and you quickly scurried between the aisles. You stopped before a shelf of notepads bound in leather. You weren’t sure what you were looking for; anything to keep your mind off of yourself; your family; Steve.

You couldn’t afford the large journal with its thick cover or the glass pens with the swirled handles. You opened a how-to guide on calligraphy and tried to calculate what you would be paid and what you owed. It might be a fun hobby. 

You went to the counter and hesitated. The old man didn’t look up from his book but you didn’t know if he heard you as when you stepped closer, he flinched.

“Miss?” He blinked at you and marked his page.

“Do you… offer credit?” You asked shyly.

“You got any old books? I’ll exchange credits for anything you got.” He said. “As long as it’s intact.”

“Oh, really?’ You smiled. “Okay, thank you.”

“Your welcome,” He said warmly.

“Sorry, I don’t… I can’t buy anything today but I’ll be back,” You offered.

“No problem,” He assured you and picked his book back up. “You have a good day.”

You left and thought of the box of books beneath your bed. That old copy of Moby Dick you never finished could go and the harlequin romances you’d hoarded from the thrift shop. You hadn’t touched those since high school and now you hid them in shame.

Your mind floated away as your feet headed towards your house. The rumble of engines sounded from across the street but your mind was eons away. You were only brought back to earth by the sharp rev of a motor right beside you. You glanced to the curb, the tire pressed to it, and then its owner.

“Hey,” Steve revved again and drew up his bike parallel to the pavement. “You didn’t forget about our ride, did you?”

“It’s not noon,” You looked at your watch. 

“Close enough.” He said. “We can go now.”

You peered up and down the sidewalk. Those who had been walking behind you had crossed to avoid the biker before you as others stood outside shop doors and watched nervously. You shrugged and shoved your hands in your jean pockets.

“I should go home first,” You said. “Tell my ma--”

“You don’t need to go all that way.” He turned off his bike and reached into his jacket. He pulled out his phone. “Give her a call and we’ll head out.”

You stared at his phone and chewed your bottom lip. You took it carefully and stared at the numbers on the screen. You dialed slowly and brought it up to your ear. You prayed she didn’t answer. _Please be busy, please be busy._

“Hello?” Your mother’s voice chimed from the other end. You greeted her and told her it was you. “Why are you calling me?”

“I just wanted you to know I won’t be home for a while,” You looked at Steve. Better she didn’t know why though she’d figure it out soon enough. “I just didn’t want you worrying.”

“Okay,” She said tritely. “Bye.”

She hung up so sharply you were stunned as the line went dead. She was still mad at you. You handed Steve his phone back. You had hoped at least you could have told him she needed you home to help her with something but you hadn’t been on the call long enough for it to be a convincing lie.

“Did mommy say you could go?” He teased. You blanched and kicked your toe into the pavement.

“I’m not a child,” You whispered.

“Huh?” He said. “Sorry, I didn’t hear that.”

“I said,” You swallowed as you looked up. “I’m not a child.”

“I know,” He reached back and unbuckled the saddle bag. “Then act like it, doll.”

He flipped the leather flap up and nodded over his shoulder as he adjusted his perch on the bike. You grabbed the helmet and tried to recall how he had done up the strap the day before. You figured it out after a few tried but he grabbed your arm before you could climb on.

“If you’re gonna be my girl, you gotta start using your words,” He said. “But use them wisely, yeah?”

“I… I’m not your girl,” You struggled with him.

He chuckled and his hand flew up to your chin. He squeezed your jaw as he made you look at him.

“You know who I am? What this badge means?” He tapped his jacket with his other hand. “What I say, goes.”

You grabbed his wrist as you trembled.

“I don’t want to go,” You struggled with him. “Please.”

“If I have to get off this bike…” He warned. “You think anyone is gonna stop me?”

You gulped and thought back to the girl from the bookstore. She was braver than you and yet she hadn’t stopped Bucky last night. She had abided his errant hands and stolen kisses. You remembered her words. ‘Good luck’.

“Doll, I haven’t mistreated you, have I?” He let go. “I’ve been nice, so why don’t you get on and let’s head out.”

You nodded and he tilted his head. You cleared your throat and gave your ascent. He smirked and you grabbed his shoulder to hoist yourself over the small seat on the back of the bike. He reached back and pushed your knees against him. You wrapped your arms around him quickly and he turned the keys.

“You ever been to the city?” He asked as he rolled the bike out into the street. You clung tighter to him as the engine ripped through Birch and announced your departure.

**💀**

Your father had taken you to the city once as a child. You remembered it as gargantuan buildings and flashing lights. A beacon compared to Birch and its grim streets. The windy ride had left your cheeks numb and your thin cardigan did little to protect you. Steve pulled into an underground lot, the type you’d only ever seen on TV and he parked between two shining cars.

You got off and handed him your helmet. He hung both on the handle bar. He turned to you as you backed away but he caught you and drew you back.

“I didn’t get a kiss,” He pulled you close. He bent and you turned your head so he only kissed your cheek.

“I… Steve…”

“It’s okay to be nervous,” He raised his hand to cradle your face and make you look at him. “I’ll show you what to do.”

He pressed his lips to yours and you closed your eyes. His lips moved against yours and he poked you with his tongue until you opened your mouth. He hugged you tighter as he kissed you deeper and you weren’t sure what else to do but stand there. He parted gently.

“Just do what I do,” He purred and kissed you again. You tried to mimic him as best you could and he hummed before he drew away. “Mmm, like that.”

You were stunned. Shaking. He seemed pleased by it and turned you as he wrapped his arm around you. He led you through the lot, around the cars, and up a set of concrete steps. You found yourself in a large mall; you’d never been to one of those before.

“Oh,” You looked around at the shop windows. “Oh.”

Your purse felt even lighter and held back a cringe. You let him guide you as you shuffled over the tiled floor. He stopped you by a cushioned bench and faced you.

“Why don’t you have a look around?” He said. “I’ve got something to deal with but I’ll find you.”

Your eyes rounded and you frowned at the glowing monikers and glaring sale signs.

“I don’t-- I’ll get lost,” You said.

“It’s fine, you won’t,” He assured you. “Just stay inside. There are maps if you need them. A directory just around the corner.”

“Okay,” You knew there was no arguing with him. “Will you be long?”

“Shouldn’t be,” He rubbed your arm. “You’ll be okay, doll.”

He kissed you again, lighter this time. He reluctantly left you and when he disappeared around the corner you dared to look around. Other shoppers passed by without regard, as if you were invisible. You were used to that.

After a lot of hesitation, you found your way into a clothing shop and glanced around at the hangers. You checked a tag on a shirt you liked and gasped. You peeked over at the employee who had offered to help you but she seemed uninterested now. You quickly left and followed the smell of cinnamon to the food court.

You sat at a table hidden behind a fake fern and placed your purse on it. You pulled out your wallet and counted what was left in your wallet. You doubted you could afford a soda here. You packed it back up and dropped the bag on your lap as you leaned your elbow on the table. You read the little news bumper running across a screen mounted beside a Chinese food outlet.

You watched the clock in the corner; half an hour dragged by. You were surprised as Steve sat across from you and you perked up from your daze. He had a small white bag that he slid over to you. You stared at him over it.

“Go on,” He said.

“You didn’t have to--”

“Just open it.” He ordered.

You pursed your lips and looked inside the bag. You lifted the small box out of it. You carefully slid the lid off and a phone, much like his own, sat inside.

“It’s already set up,” He said. “It’s all yours.”

“I…” You blinked at the screen. “I can’t… afford--”

“I’ll take care of you,” He crossed his arms over the table. “Doll, I know you’re smart. You understand. I want to take care of you. Like your ma and pa never did. Don’t you want someone?”

You lowered your eyes and picked at the loose stitches that held the handle of your purse in place. You shrugged and your leg jiggled under the table. 

“There’s a case, too,” He said. “But if you want a different one, we can look around.”

You stared at your old blouse, your faded jeans, the small bleach stain by the knee. You felt completely out of place. A matchstick girl.

“I can’t--”

“I know what it is. You been taking care of them so long you can’t even think of someone doing the same for you.” He said. “You don’t gotta take care of them forever, doll.”

“I do though,” You countered as you looked up. “If I don’t--”

“They don’t know what they got,” Steve urged. “You’re too good to them.”

“You don’t know,” You frowned. “You can’t.”

“Are you that worried about them?” He asked. “You know, if you left, they’d find their way. They’re adults, like you, right?”

“No, no, my ma, she can’t leave the house and my pa…” You clamped your lips shut, embarrassed. “I don’t wanna talk about them anymore.”

“Well, I just think you should be as good to yourself as you are to them.” He said. “But I’ll be happy if you just let me be good to you.”

You chewed your lip and looked down at the phone. You’d never had anything like it before. You never had anyone to call anyway. You carefully reached into the bag and pulled out the other slender box; a phone case with a daisy on it, like the dress you’d worn the night before. You glanced up at Steve and he raised a brow.

“It’s up to you, doll,” He lowered his voice as he leaned over the table. “How good I am to you.”


	5. Courage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: non-consent sex (series); some threats and mild aggression.
> 
> This is dark! (biker) Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey. So first, thank you too everyone who has been commenting on this. I’m excited that you’re excited and it’s very awesome and encouraging. Sorry I haven't gotten to replying to all of them but I'm trying to get better at that. It always makes things a bit easier especially as I haven’t managed much writing this week but things will get better right?
> 
> Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)
> 
> I really hope you enjoy. 💋
> 
> <3 Let me know what you think with a comment! Love ya!

[Courage, my word It didn't come, it doesn't matter Courage, it couldn't come at a worse time](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DFhpezwGtDEg&t=NTA5NjViZDdkYjEzOWFmYTc4ZTUzODBkMDFhOWE4N2NiM2FiMGFiOCwzNzJkZGY2NGQ4NzBmOWI4NjNiYzgyNGMzZmU4YmI4YmFmYTcxZDNj)

**💀💀💀💀💀**

Steve was as clueless in the shops as you, though a bit more confident. He asked for help from the employees but ended up opting for clothing you weren’t quite sure you liked. Short skirts, tight tops… You hadn’t been shopping outside a second-hand shop in, well, ever. 

He paid as you hid your discomfort. It was nice to look at new stuff but it felt wrong to have him pay for it. He didn’t seem to mind however as he ushered you along the endless mall pathways. 

You kept your head down as you neared a particular pink and black framed window. You were frightened as you passed the broad doorway and a woman in all black stopped you. You almost stumbled but Steve kept you on your feet.

“Excuse me, miss, we have a special promotion,” She stepped back and waved to a small wheel on a table. “Spin and win. Every spots a winner; five for twenty, half-off bra’s, buy one get one…”

“Not thank you,” You peeked past her to the lacy lingerie and blanched. “No I’m good.”

“Sure,” Steve said, “Go on. Spin.”

You took a breath. You really were starting to get annoyed by him. You wanted to roll your eyes but instead, you spun the wheel; five for twenty on panties. _Great._ She handed you the voucher and you thanked her. Steve was quick to go inside as you tarried behind.

“I don’t need any of this,” You kept your voice down as you followed. 

“You don’t know what you need.” 

He passed between the barely-clad mannequins and neared the drawered table of panties; none offered the same coverage as your high-waisted ones. Maybe you were a bit outdated but they all looked uncomfortable. He lifted a pair with no ass and held it up.

“Oh… no,” You uttered. “How about these?”

You held up some grey, sporty boy shorts. His brows knitted and he shook his head.

“Don’t you wanna look good for me, doll?”

You stared at him and set the panties back down. You crossed your arms and refused to look at any more. 

“No,” You whispered. 

He dropped the pair in his hands and turned to you suddenly. He leaned in as he lowered his voice. It was dangerous, angry.

“You gonna speak to me, you’re gonna talk so I can hear you,” He sneered. “And you’re gonna wear what I tell you.” He touched your chin and forced your head up. “Got it?”

“I don’t want any of this,” Your voice quavered. “I didn’t ask for it.”

“And I’m not asking you,” He hissed. “I’m not the asking type, you got me? I get what I want.”

“And what about…” Your voice trailed off and he squeezed your chin. “What about what I want?”

He smirked and shook his head. He let go of your chin and turned back to the table. He smacked your ass before he grabbed a pair of baby pink panties.

“You want me,” He said. “You just don’t get it, yet.”

You blinked and looked around. The sales attendant stood behind the desk and flipped through a glossy magazine. She glanced up and smiled at you and you quickly turned away. You slowly lifted the bags already in your hand and set them atop the piles of panties.

“I know what I want,” You let them go and spun on your heel.

You rushed between the tables of bras and panties as your heart raced. You stepped out into the bright lights of the main mall and turned to your left. You’d find the station and pay for a bus back to Birch; though that might not be for a couple hours. 

You sped up the further you got from the lingerie store and found yourself in a full out run. You didn’t know where you were going and were soon dizzy from the maze of the mall. You turned a corner and collided with something; rather someone.

Steve held the bags as he glared down at you. He grabbed your arm before you could get away and dragged you down a hallway marked emergency exit. His grip was painful as he dropped the bags and pinned you against the wall.

“You are… something else. That courage just comes out of nowhere.” He growled. “Now, I admire your gall but I don’t appreciate it.”

“Leave me alone, please,” You begged.

“You’re mine, you got that? Let me tell you a little about how that works. I wear this badge and I say what’s mine and no one else touches it. Only me.” He kept his arm across your chest. “Birch is a small fucking town, doll, and you got no way out. We both know it. So why don’t you enjoy what little you’ll get outta the shit hole.”

You gaped at him and pulled on his arm. He didn’t budge. You gave up and shook your head helplessly.

“First, you’re gonna apologise,” He said. “Then we’re gonna go back to that store and finish our shopping. You can try on a few things for me while we’re at it.”

You searched his face and he slowly drew his arm back and stood straight. You hugged yourself as you pushed away from the way. He watched you expectantly.

“I’m sorry,” You said quietly and he blinked. You raised your voice and repeated yourself.

“Good,” He nodded. “Now, I don’t wanna worry your ma too much so let’s stop dragging our asses.”

**💀**

Back in the shop, Steve picked out five pairs of panties then wandered along a wall of frillier attire. You cringed as you followed him. _What would your mother think if she knew you were here?_ He grabbed a silky nightgown, little longer than a shirt and felt the creamy fabric.

“This one,” He handed it to you and grabbed a sheer romper. “Mmm, black or red?”

“Black?” You said. 

He gave you the red. He added a lacy set and strappy leather bodysuit. You struggled to balance them along with your bags of clothes. Resigned to his will, he had one of the women show you to the changing rooms. He sat on the bench amid the mirrored walls and tall stalls. He selected the silk piece and waited outside with the rest.

You pulled it on over your bra and panties. You couldn’t bear to look in the mirror and went to the door.

“It fits,” You called to him.

You heard a snicker and his boots. A tap on the door. “Open up, let me see.” He ordered.

The latch shook as you opened it. The moment it slid out of place he was pushing on the door. He slipped inside and shut the door behind him. You backed up until you were against the wall. He put his hands on his hips as he looked you over. He reached out and snapped your bra strap, visible beneath the lacy strap of the nightie.

“It would look better without that,” He said.

“I…” You pressed yourself to the wall as his fingers traced the line of your collar bone.

“Wear it tonight.” He stepped closer. He smelled of leather and something nicer. A pleasant woody scent. “You can send me a picture.”

“What?” 

“You’ll figure it out, doll,” He leaned in and kissed you; as deep as before as he pushed against you. He kissed you until he was breathless and you were weak. “I… can’t wait.”

You nodded dumbly. He tickled your arm and hummed. His blue eyes were dark. You crossed your arms to shield yourself.

“It’s okay to be nervous,” He stayed close. “It’ll get easier… once I show you how to be a good girl.”

You were speechless. He backed away slowly and sighed. He pulled the door open behind him, his eyes clung to you until he was on the other side. When he closed it, you let out your breath and braced yourself against the wall. _What had you gotten yourself into?_

**💀**

You shoved everything in a single bag before cramming it in the saddlebags on the back of Steve’s bike. He was happy enough with seeing the creamy nightie that he didn’t bother you much more than a few touches and kisses on your way out.

You were utterly confused and terrified. It wasn’t as if you’d never talked to men before but most of those you encountered were customers; harmless and often elderly. Married, most times. They never gave you a second glance and you never tried to make them do so. Perhaps it was fear of falling into a trap like your mother or your innate shyness holding you back. It was better to have the what if than a definite no.

Now you had caught the attention of a very bad men. The very type of man your mother warned you against, as hypocritical as that was. You didn’t know how and you weren’t sure about his determination. You only knew, it wasn’t good.

You straddled the bike behind him, impatient to get home. You were shivering by the time you got to Birch. As promised, thankfully, he drove up to your house. Unfortunately, your mother, ever in her crumbling castle, appeared at the window. Your father was on the porch drinking, sitting on the old stained sofa.

You got off and quickly undid your helmet and then the saddle bag. You traded the former for the shopping bag and said a swift goodbye. Steve kept you from walking away as he pulled you back to kiss you. You let him, embarrassed.

“I’ll text,” He said. 

“Okay,” You slowly backed away. “Um, I’ll try to answer. I’m still figuring it out.”

“Not that hard, doll,” He said. “I’ll see you around.”

He let you go and idled there as he watched you near the porch. Your father tossed his can as you climbed up the steps and he belched. 

“There’s the slut,” He yelled over and guffawed. “Always knew it.”

You flinched but ignored him as you continued to the door. You were used to his venom, he never had much to say to you and when he did, it was never nice. You could tell by the pile of empties that he was already deep in his daily stupor.

“Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?” He taunted as he rose. “Any daughter of mine ain’t gonna fuck those scum.”

Steve’s engine died. You froze and turned to your father as he staggered towards you. You backed up as he reached for you but he was stopped. Steve stepped between you and shoved him back. Your father fell on his ass.

“What the fuck?” He struggled to get back to his feet. “You get out of here, boy. Stop messing with my daughter.”

You mother opened the inside door and stood just behind the screen. She looked horrified. 

“You want me gone, you make me,” Steve crossed his arms. “Never had any problem with me or mine drinking at our hole.”

“Steve, please, he’s just drunk,” You touched his arm. “He gets like this.”

“I don’t care. All the easier to knock him on his ass,” Steve snarled.

“Please,” You squeezed his arm. “Steve. For me.”

He looked at you slowly and his expression softened. He took a breath and turned back to your father.

“If I hear you’re bothering her,” Steve jabbed a finger in the air. “I’ll come back and I won’t go till you can’t say anything else.”

“Big words,” Your father slurred.

“Pa,” You brushed past Steve and stopped your father from getting closer. “Stop. He’ll hurt you.”

“I’ll drag him through the dirt.” Your father barked.

“You can barely stand,” You argued. “Shut up and he’ll go.”

Your father shrugged you away and backed up. He bent to grab another beer from the case and dropped onto his couch. He scoffed as he opened the can.

“Fucking slut living under my roof,” He grumbled.

“Say it again.” Steve pushed past you in an instant. “Call her it again.”

He lifted your father by the scruff of his shirt and knocked the beer from his hand. He wriggled in Steve’s grasp as your mother finally came through the screen door.

“Stop!” She shouted. “Please…. Sir. Please, that’s my husband.”

Steve glanced between your parents and sighed. He let your father fall back to the couch. 

“Ma’am,” He nodded at your mother as he passed you. 

He touched your arm as he slipped past you and tramped down the crooked steps. He went to his bike and climbed on. 

“You just remember,” Steve called out as he shoved his key in. “There is no Birch without the club,”


	6. Scared

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: non-consent sex (series); fingering, foreplay, hand job.
> 
> This is dark! (biker) Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys are keeping well. I don’t have much to say today but love you guys.
> 
> Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)
> 
> I really hope you enjoy. 💋
> 
> <3 Let me know what you think with a comment! Love ya!

_[He said, I can make you scared, it's kind of what I do](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ieQH6X_XBJo) _

**💀** **💀** **💀** **💀** **💀** **💀**

You stared at the message. You really weren’t sure about this phone thing. It was awkward and you typed so slow, even though you had no idea how to respond. But, as always, Steve was persistent. He wanted a picture and after a lengthy struggle with the camera, you managed to take one and send it. Just a smile, but he wanted more. You insisted you needed to go to bed and his acceptance, even via font, was terse.

You hated the phone. It was like he was with you all the time. You dressed in the early morning dim and set off for your opening shift. It would be just you until noon that morning. You muted your phone and left it in your bag as you went about loading pans into the ovens and turning on all the lights. 

You took the chairs down in the small lounge area and straightened the tables. You sorted the loaves by expiration, hoping the older ones would sell that day so they didn’t end up in the trash. The time passed quickly and you were soon selling breads and buns to the locals.

When Babs arrived, she sent you on your break and you had your usual homemade sandwich in the corner with a small tea. Your bag vibrated on the chair and you pulled it out. The battery icon flashed as you opened the deluge of messages.

‘You there?’ was the most recent from your only contact.

You pondered over the screen and sent a quick response. ‘Just working. Phone battery low.’

He sent a winky face before the phone beeped and shut down entirely. You shrugged and dropped it in your bag. A happy coincidence or deliberate negligence. You’d worry about when you got home. Plug it in then and face the music.

Babs sent you off with a box of stale, or soon-to-be stale, muffins and you cut through the back streets which ran parallel to the main stretch. An extra five minutes on your walk but it kept you from any unexpected meetings. 

As you stepped through the front door, the house was quiet. Your father was snoring on the couch but your mother was nowhere to be found. Not even in the kitchen. You set down the muffins and your bag slumped to your elbow. You headed down the hall and found your door slightly ajar.

You nudged it open to find your mother at your bed. The bag of clothes Steve had bought you spread across your mattress as she held up a sparkly thong. Your heart dropped as you tossed your bag on the floor. She spun to face you, her expression a mix of disgust and shock.

“Your father was right,” She hissed and threw the panties at you. “What are you doing with that-- that criminal?!”

“Ma,” You caught the panties and flung them on the bed as you came closer. “You saw what he did to Pa; what he would’ve done.”

“And you just stood there,” She snapped.

“And you!” You retorted. “Just like you let Pa beat you. I should’ve just said nothing at all and let him have it.”

“We’re your family,” Your mother sneered. “Do you understand what you’re doing? People will talk!”

“People already talk about us!” You spat. “They say you’re some crazy lady and that Pa is a lush and you know, I think they’re right.”

“Has he touched you? Did you let that man touch you?” 

“All I’ve done is defend you. Both you and Pa, and why?” You narrowed your eyes. “I spend my days in a fucking bakery just to keep this shit hole in your name and you call me a slut?”

“Don’t swear.” She lowered her voice. “And I never said that.”

“Get out of my room,” You demanded. “Now.”

“Don’t speak to me like that in my house--”

“That I pay for as you give every cent to that slob to go drink away,” You huffed. “So just leave me alone. Like you always did.”

You went to the door and waited. Horrified, she crossed the room and you made to close the door as she stepped into the hall. She turned back.

“Sweet pea--”

You slammed the door in her face. There was no lock, she had made sure of that. You stormed over to your bed and grabbed the large plastic bag. You stuffed them all inside and dropped it at the end of the bed. You fell onto the mattress and buried your head under the pillow and yelled.

You’d never felt so completely trapped.

**💀**

You stayed like that until it was dark out. You just stewed in your self-pity and helplessness. You didn’t move until you heard a gentle tapping. You rolled over and opened your eyes. You sat up and rubbed your forehead as it sounded again. It took you another set of rhythmic taps to realise it was at the window.

You rose, the blouse you wore wrinkled and untucked from your work pants. You flicked on the light and neared the window. A shadow stood outside and you barely held back a frightened shout. 

Steve smiled in at you as he bent slightly to look in. He motioned to the lock on the top of the lower pane and you reached out to unlatch it. You slid the window open, confused and surprised. He grabbed the window sill and poked his head through.

“I’ve been messaging,” His smile fell. “But you haven’t been answering.”

“I… It was a long day…” You peered past him. “How did you-- Why are you here?”

“Should I come through the front door?” He lifted a brow. “I’m sure your ma will welcome me right in.”

“No, no,” You gestured for him to lower his voice. “Steve… I was napping and I’m-- I’m very tired.”

Before you could argue further, he was pulling himself through the window. You backed up and watched in shock as he easily swung his other leg over the sill. He stood and pushed the window closed without looking. He licked his lips as he looked around your room.

“Steve, you really shouldn’t--”

“You should answer me when I message you,” He put his hands on his hips. “Next time, I won’t be so understanding.”

“My… My phone’s dead,” You blinked and glanced over at your purse.

“Then plug it in,” He ordered.

You took a breath and went over to the door and retrieved your purse from beside it. You took out your phone and crossed the room to grab the plastic bag from the end of the bed. You fished out the charger at the bottom of the mess and fumbled as you plugged it in next to your bed. You set down the phone on your dresser as Steve’s boots made the floorboards groan beneath the worn blush rug.

The plastic crinkled as you turned back and he huffed as he looked inside. He shoved his arm in and pulled out the same sparkly panties your mother had been so offended by. He popped the tags of and held them up with his index.

“I’ve been dying to see these on,” He said as he stepped closer. 

You stared at him. He wiggled his finger and you snatched them from him. He smirked and sat on your bed. The frame gave a whine at his weight. The twin was barely big enough for you but had held up through the years. You sucked in your lip and looked down at the thong.

“Surprise me,” He closed his eyes as he leaned back on his hands. 

“I… I can’t,” You kept your voice soft. “My parents--”

“If they wanna get nosy, I’ll deal with them,” He opened one eye and nodded. “You’ve got one minute, doll.”

He closed his eyes and a shiver crawled up your spine. You got as far from him as you could. You went to the antique vanity you’d inherited from your grandmother as a child. The mirror was loose in its frame and the painted wood was chipped. 

You faced away from Steve as you placed the thong on the desk. You unbuttoned your blouse enough to pull it over your head and sat to remove your shoes and socks, forgotten in your inhospitable homecoming. You shimmied out of your pants and hesitated as you hooked your fingers in your underwear.

You nearly tripped out of them as you built your courage to pull them down. It took tries to get your legs in the right holes of the thong and you tugged it into place. You glanced in the mirror as the sparkles caught your eye in the reflection. You turned away quickly and folded your hands over your pelvis.

“Okay,” You squeaked.

Steve opened his eyes and looked you over. His lip twitched as his brows shot up.

“Come here,” He pointed in front of him. 

You were shaking. You’d never been around a man, anyone really, with so little clothes. Your steps were small, reluctant. He reached out to draw you closer.

“Hot,” He pulled your hands apart as he admired the panties. “But…” He looked up and cupped the plain cups of your bra. “This needs to go.”

“I…” You inhaled and felt as if your legs would crumple beneath you. “Steve, please, I never-- I can’t--”

“It’s okay to be scared,” He purred and kissed your stomach. “I can help you. You just have to listen.”

“You should go,” You breathed.

He scoffed and pushed his shoulders back. He slipped his leather coat off and let it fall around his body. He tapped his toe, his eyes never left you.

“Get that bra off.” His voice was stern. “Now.”

You swallowed and slowly reached back. You struggled to unhook your bra as Steve stood to fold his jacket over your dresser then fell back onto the bed. He stretched across the small mattress, his boots hanging off the foot. As you let your bra sag and it slid down your arms, he watched intently. He spread his arm out and gestured you to the bed.

You neared and he caught your wrist. He drew you down so that his arm was beneath your neck and his other hand tickled your thigh. He carefully but deliberately explored your body. He lingered on the panties and played with the thin strap and traced the vee of fabric.

His hand continued upward and he cupped your tit. You trembled as he nuzzled your temple, his breath hot on your cheek.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me, doll,” He coaxed. “I only want to make you feel good.”

“Steve,” You tensed against him as he toyed with your nipples. They were hard and sensitive to his touch. “It’s…” You stopped his hand. “It’s too much.”

“Shhh,” He kissed your cheek. “You don’t want your ma or pa to hear us.”

“Please,” You pleaded and he pushed your hand away from your chest.

“Tell me, did you ever touch yourself? In this bed?” He hummed. “All alone in this room, night after night, you must have.”

“Touch myself?” You stuttered. “I… never…”

“Never?” His hand crawled up to your neck and he grasped your chin. He turned your head and kissed you. He was hungry but patient. He drew away slowly. “What a pity.”

His hand brushed back down your chest and over your stomach. He rubbed the fabric of the panties and you squeezed your legs together. He pinched your thigh then forced his fingers between them.

“I don’t want to hurt you, doll.” His threat was softened by his dusky tone.

You let him part your legs and gasped as his finger brushed lower. He shoved the panties aside and you tried to push your thighs back together. He gave a tut in warning. You went limp and he pressed his fingers along your folds. You shuttered and let out a pathetic squeak. He moved his fingers slowly and you felt an odd tingle.

“Doesn’t that feel good, doll?’ He cooed. “Hmm?”

You gritted your teeth against a whine. His fingers swirled around your clit and sent ripples through you. You clapped your hand over his and he pressed his lips to yours. He kissed you as if to devour you and his hand never wavered. He parted and his hot breath tickled your skin.

“Shhh,” He whispered. “We don’t want anyone to hear, do we?”

He kissed you again and you tilted your pelvis against his hand. You were set off-kilter by the ripples sent through you as the fear trickled along your spine. It felt so good but so wrong. His hand moved faster and he pressed harder. 

You grasped his bicep as the waves overwhelmed you and your cry was stifled by his mouth. He kept on until you were whimpering and weak. Tugging on his arm as your cunt was overwrought and tender. As he pulled away, you peered up into his eyes. Stunned and embarrassed.

“Wasn’t that nice, doll?” He put his slick fingers to his tongue and licked them. “You taste sweet.”

You closed your eyes and turned your face from him; mortified. He shifted on the bed beside you and you heard the soft glide of a zipper. The bed creaked, your bodies flush on the small mattress. You on your back, Steve on his side as his arm snaked around you.

He took your hand and wrapped your fingers around something thick and firm.; warm flesh that twitched as you held it. He guided your hand along his cock and you gasped. He led a steady motion and groaned.

“Just like that,” He let go and grabbed your chin. “Keep going.” You kept your strokes even as his muscles tensed. “Open your eyes.”

Your eyes snapped open and you looked into his fearfully. Your gaze slipped down and you saw yourself playing with him. He turned his hand and shoved two fingers past your lips. He pressed down on your tongue and breathed against your cheek.

“Faster,” He hissed and you obeyed. “That’s it, doll.”

He hummed as he gripped your jaw tighter and your lips closed around his fingers. He chuckled and dragged his lips along your temple.

“You’re gonna make me cum, doll,” He purred. “That’s all you. You’re... so fucking sweet. You don’t even know--”

He inhaled sharply and spasmed against you. You felt a heat seep over your hand and Steve pulled his fingers from your mouth. He slowed your strokes until you were still, his cum strung along your hand and thigh. You could feel his heartbeat as your own hammered in your ears.

Your hand fell to your side. You were paralysed. Steve kissed you again, this time softer. He fell onto his back, crushed between you and the wall.

“I’m gonna pick you up after work tomorrow,” He said breathily. “I want you to wear the red dress… no panties.”

You were quiet as you stared at the ceiling. You felt dirty and used. And yet you felt good. Your core still pulsed as your thighs brushed together.

“Got it?” He asked.

“Yes,” You whispered. “The red dress.”


	7. Long Time Running

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: non-consent sex (series); nothing for this chapter.
> 
> This is dark! (biker) Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is our second last chapter! So excited to share this. As always, I appreciate you guys and you following along with my madness.
> 
> Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)
> 
> I really hope you enjoy. 💋
> 
> <3 Let me know what you think with a comment! Love ya!

_[Does your mother tell you things](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZuwobLCaoWE)  
Long, long when I'm gone?  
Who you talking to?  
Is she telling you I'm the one?_

**💀** **💀** **💀** **💀** **💀** **💀** **💀**

The next day at the bakery was slow. You were thankful for that. Your night had been close to sleepless as the afterglow of what you’d done faded away. You woke to the smell of Steve and despite a shower, it seemed to follow you. The thought of him lingered too.

As you swept the empty bakery, the bell chimed and you looked up the woman who was becoming all too familiar. Bucky’s girl smiled at you as you rounded the counter and returned to the till. She looked through the glass at the desserts before she approached the other side.

“I’ll take some of the lemon meringue,” She said.

You nodded and punched in her order. You could sense her watching you. She paid and you gave her her change. You cut a thick slice of the pie and boxed it up for her. As you slid it across to her, her hand rested on it and she glanced over her shoulder.

“You and Steve,” She turned back to you. “How is that going?”

You squinted at her, then shrugged. 

“He hasn’t… hurt you?” She asked.

You lowered your eyes. Sure, Steve had been a bit gruff, a bit insistent, but he hadn’t truly hurt you. He had made you feel wonderful things. Confusing things. You shook your head.

“You sure?” She asked.

“Yes,” You looked up at her. “He doesn’t hit me or anything.”

“You like him?” She prodded. You shrugged again. “I suppose it doesn’t matter anyway.”

“Do… you think he would hurt me?” You leaned on the counter and spoke quietly. “If I… said no.”

“Well, does he let you say no?”

“I haven’t… I don’t…” You blinked at her. “You’re not afraid of him?”

“I’m not stupid,” She said. “I know what he’s capable of, so no, I am afraid of him. But I have Bucky and as much as we… disagree, he wouldn’t let Steve hurt me.”

“Please, don’t tell him I said any of this. Steve, I mean.” You pleaded. 

She chuckled darkly.

“I don’t talk to that jackass,” She took the box of pie. “Just… you’re gonna need a friend and to be honest, I need one too.”

Your eyes rounded and you felt like smiling. A friend.

“Really?” You breathed.

“Sure,” She smiled for you. “But you let me know if Steve hurts you. Promise.”

“Okay,” You said. “I’ll… I will.”

**💀**

You walked home slowly. You hummed an old tune you heard on the radio too many times. You were nervous. The red dress, that’s what Steve said. What he demanded. You didn’t really like that one. It was short and tight. 

You strode up the dirty road towards your house and came upon the gravel drive. You stopped dead at the motorcycle parked beside your father’s old Ford. It was too pale to be Steve’s and the wolf on its tank confirmed that it wasn’t. Your heart fluttered and you sped up to clamour up the porch steps. 

Your father wasn’t in his usual spot and as you went inside, you heard voices. You followed them to the kitchen.

Bucky was there with your parents. Your mother hovered at the stove, wringing her hands, and your father pressed his hand around a can as he sat facing the biker. It was an odd and startling scene.

“What’s going on?” You asked and all eyes went to you.

“I was just checking in,” Bucky stood slowly. “Like to keep eyes on my territory.”

“You never been here before,” You said quietly. He grinned.

“Come on,” He gestured you back into the hall as he neared. “We need to talk.”

You peeked over at your mother. She looked terrified. Your father shook his head and grumbled into his can. He didn’t give a shit. You turned and Bucky followed you to the front door. You went out onto the porch and closed the door softly behind him.

“Go on,” He pointed to the couch your father had stained with beer and sweat.

You sat and he leaned on the rail of the porch in front of you. He crossed his arms as the late spring breeze ruffled his short hair.

“My girl’s been acting… strange,” He said. “So we had a talk today.”

“About what?” You teetered on the edge of the couch.

“You,” He said. “Steve. She’s concerned. Now I told her Steve was his own man and you are grown, you can take care of yourself.”

You stared up at him as he considered you. His blue eyes searched your face and his squared jaw softened. He let out a long breath.

“Your daddy hit you?” He asked. You flinched. “Well?”

“Sometimes.” You admitted. “Mostly my ma tho.”

“Is that why she stays in? To hide it?”

“She has… fears,” You shifted. “What does it matter?”

“Because, my men, we are what we are. We’re bad men.” He said. “But we have our lines that we do not cross. We don’t hit our women. I mean that. None of my business whether you and Steve are… together, but it is my business if he takes after your pa.”

“But… he’s your friend.”

“He is, and I don’t see him hitting you. That’s not really who he is. He’s got a bit of a temper. Admittedly, he can be rough, but there are limits. Even for him.” Bucky explained. 

“I… You don’t know me,” You said softly.

“I don’t,” He admitted. “Not well but I think I will. I know Steve and I know his nature. I see the way he is with you. He’s a right ass hole to everyone else, even me. But not you.”

“And… if I don’t want him?” You nearly whispered as your voice crackled.

“See, that is none of my business there,” He pushed himself away from the rail as a distant engine filled the air. “He made his claim.”

“Claim?” You stood as the engine roared closer and Bucky turned to watched the other biker pull up next to his bike.

“Talk to my girl,” He neared the steps. “She’ll help you understand.”

He tramped down the steps and strolled over to Steve. They greeted each other with a handshake and had a brief conversation you could barely understand. Bucky departed with a tear of his engine and Steve strode over to the porch and looked up at you.

“You didn’t forget, did you?” He hopped up the steps.

“No, I just… I just got back from work,” You said. “I hadn’t--”

“It’s alright, I can wait,” He said.

“I… could you stay out here? I think my ma’s already scared enough.” You clasped your hands together nervously.

“You and Bucky have a good chat?” He asked.

“I think,” You said.

“I’ll stay out here,” He said. “Grab some extra clothes while you’re at it.”

You stared at him and slowly moved toward the door. You nodded and ducked inside quickly. You hid behind the door as your mother peeked out from the kitchen.

“What have you brought into my house?” She asked.

“Ma,” You uttered. “Please…”

“I didn’t raise you to be one of them,” She said.

“You raised me to be nothing,” You stopped at the end of the hall that led to your bedroom. “To be walked all over and that’s exactly what’s happening.”

She looked hurt. She neared you slowly and drew you into her arms. She clung to you.

“I’m sorry,” She whispered tearfully.

“Doesn’t matter,” You pulled away. “Never did. What I want is… It’s okay, ma.”

You left her there and went to your room. You changed into the red dress. No panties, he said. You felt wrong and bare. You shoved a pair of jeans and a tee into a canvas bag along with underwear and some socks. You pulled on a thin sweater and marched back into the hall. You mother gaped at your dress.

“He has money,” You offered weakly. It barely mattered to you. 

“He could hurt you,” Your mother argued.

“Like pa?” You challenged and she frowned.

“I should’ve… left.” She whispered.

“Should’ve,” You agreed. “I never expected anything else than what I’ve been dealt.”

“You should’ve had better.” She said.

“You too,” You replied and carefully stepped past her. “But we take what we get, don’t we?”

You pulled the door open and your new shoes slipped on the porch. You held yourself up with the door and closed the screen. You turned to Steve as he smirked. His eyes flicked up and down your body as he drew you close. 

“I like it,” He purred before he kissed you. “I got a surprise for you.”

“Oh?” You gazed up at him, still reeling from your awkward homecoming.

“Let’s go for a ride, doll,” He cradled your face between his hands and his thumbs traced your cheek bones as he kissed you again. 

**💀**

Steve drove out of Birch and along the country roads. You were surprised and slightly off-kilter as he pulled up to a large house amidst the sprawling green fields. Reclusive but not too far out of town. You peered up at the house from beneath your helmet as he rolled to a stop. He waited for you to climb off before he kicked down the stand and dismounted.

Your legs were numb from the ride and you bent to rub your thighs just under the short skirt. You took off your helmet as Steve did the same and he took it from you before he led you towards the house. He set the helmets on a crate on the porch and fumbled with his keys. You crossed your arms behind him as he unlocked the door.

“This is your place?” You wondered.

He was quiet as he stepped inside and waved you in behind him. He bent to unzip his boots and kicked them off. You slipped out of your shoes and glanced around at the tidy entry way. It wasn’t what you imagined. He turned to you as you caught yourself on the narrow console table as you nearly tripped on your own shoes.

“It’s _our_ place,” He said.

“What?” You sputtered.

He took your hand and pulled you to the wide doorway that looked into the front room. A cozy looking couch with matching chairs, a brick fireplace, a rug the same colour as the bricks, a polished coffee table.

“I bought it furnished but never really bothered to do anything,” He slid his arm over your shoulders. “Never had much of a reason too.”

“What do you mean ‘ours’?” You grabbed his hand but he wouldn’t let you push him away.

“You can’t stay at your parents. Your father’s a drunk and your mother’s… crazy.” He said. “I want you here. With me.”

“Steve,” You breathed. “I barely… You don’t…”

“You deserve better,” He rubbed your shoulder. “I’ll give you the best.”

“I can’t leave my ma,” You huffed. “You don’t understand, my pa will--”

“You let me worry about them. You’re not doing that anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll buy out the house. Make sure they don’t have to stress. Keep an eye on your pa.” He said. “A close eye. There’s no place in Birch he can hide.”

“I gotta work tomorrow,” You finally wiggled free of his arm.

“No, you don’t,” He said. “You don’t need to do anything but be mine, doll.”

“I like working,” You argued. 

“I won’t stop you then,” He said. 

You looked at him and inhaled deeply.

“Why?” 

“Why what?”

“Why me?” You asked. “Why give me all this?”

“You need a way out, I need… someone,” He said. “It works out.”

“And if I walk away right now?” You ventured.

He smirked and leaned on the door frame.

“You won’t,” He said. “You can’t. You know that. You’re not stupid.”

You hung your head and played with the hem of your sweater. You glanced at the window then past Steve to the small entryway.

“I’d rather you didn’t try it,” He warned. “But it’s your call.”

You shivered. You weren’t cold, just scared.

“That dress looks good on you,” He said. “I’ll get you more.”

You just stared at his chest as his hands grazed your sides. He pulled you to him and brought two fingers up to tilt your chin. He kissed you and you let him. There was something inside you that just rolled over. An acceptance that had been growing since this man strode into your life. You had known that night at the bar, there was no way out of Birch.

He drew away, his breath was warm against your lips.

“Let’s take the grand tour,” He said.

You nodded and he let you go. He stepped back and shed his leather jacket. He hung it in the entryway by the door. You reluctantly slipped off your sweater and he took it to hang beside his jacket. He smiled and stretched his arm across your shoulders.

“I think you’re gonna like this place a whole lot, doll.”


	8. It's a Good Life If You Don't Weaken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: non-consent sex (series); intercourse, oral
> 
> This is dark! (biker) Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was fun sharing this series with you guys. As for the next week, I don’t have anything done, just a bunch of bits and pieces I need to put together for other series and possible one shots. So, I’ll take Monday off at least and figure out what the hell I’m doing. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)
> 
> I really hope you enjoy. 💋
> 
> <3 Let me know what you think with a comment! Love ya!

[And find somewhere to go](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3D85k4RxqRyv8&t=NjdkOWUwMWM2M2MyNGI3MDdhZTdmN2VkZWY2YjZiODRkNDU1NTg4ZiwxNGQ1NzFjYTZlOWNlOTdhY2E0NWY0YTViNDlhMzI3MTIyNThmNjll)

[Go somewhere we're needed ](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3D85k4RxqRyv8&t=NjdkOWUwMWM2M2MyNGI3MDdhZTdmN2VkZWY2YjZiODRkNDU1NTg4ZiwxNGQ1NzFjYTZlOWNlOTdhY2E0NWY0YTViNDlhMzI3MTIyNThmNjll)

[Find somewhere to grow ](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3D85k4RxqRyv8&t=NjdkOWUwMWM2M2MyNGI3MDdhZTdmN2VkZWY2YjZiODRkNDU1NTg4ZiwxNGQ1NzFjYTZlOWNlOTdhY2E0NWY0YTViNDlhMzI3MTIyNThmNjll)

[Grow somewhere we're needed](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3D85k4RxqRyv8&t=NjdkOWUwMWM2M2MyNGI3MDdhZTdmN2VkZWY2YjZiODRkNDU1NTg4ZiwxNGQ1NzFjYTZlOWNlOTdhY2E0NWY0YTViNDlhMzI3MTIyNThmNjll)

**💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀**

The main floor had a large kitchen and a dining room and a second room on the other side of the entryway. The entire place seemed untouched and barely lived in. Curious. And it was much nicer than your parents’ house, but most were. 

Upstairs there were several more rooms along with a couple bathrooms and closets. You could guess that it was a recently renovated farmhouse, the skeleton built for a large family who had once worked the land. It seemed much too big for just Steve. _And you._

That thought was still sinking in. You didn’t believe Steve. Truly didn’t. This was all just a ploy that you weren’t in on. It felt like everything he’d done was just another trick but you couldn’t guess how. You couldn’t complain either. He was generous despite his brusque demeanour and you hadn’t exactly suffered from his kindness.

He lingered behind you as you walked down the long hallway. You glanced at the framed pictures of trees and seascapes. Steve’s footsteps trailed you and he came up beside you to look at a painting of a barren winter forest.

“We can change the pictures, the curtains, the carpet…” He said. “I never did much. I just needed a place to sleep.”

“I’m not stupid,” You said suddenly, surprising even yourself. “I know what you want.”

“Well, doll, I haven’t exactly been subtle.” He scoffed. “So… tell me what I want?”

You hesitated. There was no way to say it without sounding silly.

“S-sex,” You forced out. 

He smirked and reached to run his thumb down the frame of the picture. He slowly turned to you as he planted his hand on the wall. He loomed over you.

“Sex,” He repeated with a chuckle. “And what is it exactly I want from you? What we did last night? Or maybe I want to just bend you over…” He was amused at how you squirmed. “Or maybe I want it all.”

“And you would hurt me if I didn’t?” You asked.

“If? There is no if, doll,” He purred as he tickled your neck. “We know that you’re going to go in there…” He nodded to the door just feet away, “And and what you’re going to do. What we’re going to do.”

You stared at him and took a breath. You shivered and shook your head.

“You go in that room,” He lowered his voice as he played with the strap of your dress, “And wait for me.”

“Wait?” You shook your head.

“I’ll be a few minutes.” He squeezed your shoulder. “More than enough time for you to get ready for me.”

He kissed your forehead and his hand fell from your shoulder. He tilted his head as he watched you. Numbly, you turned and looked at the pale walls as you measured your steps to the door. You turned back as you grasped the knob and Steve stood as he had. He urged you on with a nod and you opened the door.

You stepped inside and shut the door with a click. You looked around the bedroom, the melding hues of the afternoon and evening streamed in between the dark curtains. The large bed stood between a set of weathered nightstands and looked cozy despite its dark blankets.

There were traces of Steve all around, unlike the rest of the house. A tee shirt hung over the lip of the hamper and a towel draped from the back of the armchair. You’d never really thought of how or where Steve lived. In your head, he existed in perpetual foreboding; floated in a nether until he could appear to rein over you.

You walked around the room and peeked out the window. It was at least twice the size of your bedroom and the scent of vinegar and bleach didn’t seep in under the door. You spun back and faced the room. You thought of those dumb harlequin novellas you’d read as a curious teen, the flowery language, and cheesy notions of romance. This wasn’t that.

You went to the bed and sat on the end. You watched the door. An impatience that you scorned. You should be dreading him not expecting him. You clasped your hands together and trembled. You were more nervous than you’d ever been.

The door opened and you looked up. Steve entered and let the door hang open carelessly. He held your eye as he neared and brought his hands up on either side of your face.

“Good girl,” He praised.

You shifted, uncomfortable, and his hands fell. They trailed down your arms and crawled over your waist. He lowered himself to his knees before you as his hands rested on your thighs. He peered up at you, his blue eyes darkened and dilated.

He pulled on your knees and you fought for a moment before he wrenched them apart. He quickly drew himself between your legs and his fingers danced along your skirt. He lifted it slowly and hummed at your nakedness.

“You listened,” He said. “Good girl.”

You looked away, ashamed. He rubbed your thighs and slipped his hands up to your hips as your dress bunched up.

“Relax,” He coaxed. “Lay back, doll.”

“What are you--” Your legs squeezed him as you tried to close them.

“Shh,” He gripped your hips. “Just… listen.”

You took a deep breath and shakily leaned back on your elbows. You fell back completely as one of his hands slid further up your stomach. His fingers stretched along your stomach as his other hand crept along your pelvis.

He shifted between your legs and you were stunned by the warm of his breath along your thigh. He kissed the tender flesh and you flinched. He grabbed your leg and kept you from trying to draw them together. Another kiss and you gasped. You lifted yourself up on his elbows and he pulled back.

“Down,” He commanded.

Your lips parted but your voice was gone. You fell flat and he continued on, his beard tickled the inside of your thighs. He gave a nip and you cried out. He did it again, harder, and you clawed the duvet beneath you. He left a trail of kisses and bites until his warmth reached your pelvis.

His nose tickled along your vee and you gasped. He kept one hand on your thigh as his cool tongue flicked over your folds. You tensed and he squeezed your leg. He delved deeper and your hand flew down without thinking. He slapped your hand away and kept on. The sensation he sent through you was both frightening and intoxicating.

His tongue explored you carefully but grew more fervent. He lapped at you hungrily and swirled around your clit. Your back arched and you grasped at the blankets. Your legs bent against the end of the bed as he grabbed your skirt and balled the fabric in his fist.

Your heart beat furiously as your breath hitched. You writhed against him and closed your eyes as you lost yourself in the rapture. Everything around you faded away; the distant farmhouse, the club, Birch… It was all gone. It was nothing. There was only that feeling.

You whined and slapped the mattress as your core bloomed. The sudden wave of pleasure that washed over you was suffocating. As you moaned, your voice didn’t sound like your own. Your body felt disjointed; like you were watching yourself squirm and squeal in delight.

Steve urged you on with his mouth as he didn’t let up. You came again. You were dizzy and breathless as he forced you over the line over and over. You were weak and sensitive when he finally slowed and sat back on his heels. Your grip slackened on the blankets and you reached down to push your skirt over your exposed pelvis.

“Ah,” He grabbed your wrists as he stood. “We’re not even close to done.”

He pulled you up so that you were sitting on the end of the bed. He let you go and stepped back. His gaze didn’t waver as he pulled his tee shirt over his head. You glanced down at your red dress, the skirt gathered at your waist.

“Keep that on,” He growled. “And look at me.”

Your eyes flitted up and he undid his jeans. Your cheeks burned. You recalled the sight of him the night before. You’d never seen a man entirely naked and here he was undressing before you. So brazen and bold that he seemed to splendour in it. You couldn’t look away, but you weren’t sure it had anything to do with his order.

When he was completely bare before you, your lips formed an o. His muscles were firm along his stomach, arms, and thighs. His flesh was carved with strength. His shoulders were broad and he seemed even bigger as he stood before you in his purest form.

He stepped towards the bed and it felt like you were slapped out of your trance. You kicked your legs back and he lunged forward. You crawled backwards on your hands and feet awkwardly as you tried to evade him. He caught your ankles and dragged you back to him as he lifted his knees up onto the bed.

“Let’s not do that,” He warned as he parted your legs and moved between them.

You blinked as his cock bobbed at the edge of your vision. You tried to focus on his chest, on the sheer power corded along his shoulders. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them to the mattress as he bent over you. You could feel every ounce of strength in his grip.

He kissed you. He was desperate; impatient. He dragged his lips from your and brushed down your cheek. He nuzzled your neck and nibbled the delicate skin. He closed his lips around his teeth and sucked. You cried out at the intricate pressure. You struggled, or tried to. He parted with a ‘pop’.

“What--”

“Gotta make sure they know you’re mine,” He purred as his nose tickled your throat.

He released your wrists as he dropped down onto an elbow and his other hand crept between your bodies. He pushed the straps of your dress down your shoulders until your arms were trapped in it. He cupped your tit and then the other. He moved back to take a nipple in his mouth. He toyed with your roughly and you whimpered at the pluck it sent through your core.

His fingers dug into your hip as he squeezed tighter. You could tell he was holding back, just barely. You were thankful yet terrified. His restraint could not last.

“Touch me,” He whispered against you as he moved over you.

His lips crashed into yours and you murmured into his mouth. You felt around blindly and he grabbed your hand with his. He devoured you as he guided your hand around his cock. You didn’t need any encouragement as you feared what would happen if you tried to retreat now. He shuddered as your hand slid up and down his length. 

His hand flew up and grasped your head as he kissed you deeper. He moaned and parted for just a moment before he kissed you again. As you stroked him, he shifted so that his tip rubbed against your sensitive clit. You twitched and he pushed down so that every glide of your hand had him sending ripples through your core.

He eased himself down until he slid along your folds. He prodded at your cunt and ripped your hand from between you. He pulled his lips from yours and held himself up on his elbow as he felt between your legs. His eyes bore into yours as a wrinkle marred his forehead.

“You ready, doll?” He asked as he pressed himself against your entrance.

You gasped. You were terrified. He pushed in just a little and you whined. “N-no!”

He ignored you and pushed further in. You could feel yourself stretching around him. You felt an unnatural fullness as he inched deeper and deeper. You gritted your teeth. The pressure was peculiar but not painful. Your breaths came sharply and you clawed at his sides helplessly.

He pulled back just a little and you let out a sigh. 

“Steve,” You pleaded. 

He pushed back in and your voice fizzled. This time he sank to his limit. His body kept yours in place and he kissed your cheek as he began to thrust slowly. He smelled like leather and sweat. You could taste tears though you hadn’t felt them fall.

“Doll,” He hummed and inhaled the scent of your hair. “Oh, fuck, so good.”

“P-please,” You stuttered.

“Doesn’t that feel good?” He kept his motion steady; even but teasing.

“I don’t… know,” You bent your legs so that he was cradled between them. You felt an intense tickle and moaned.

“That’s it, just do what you feel,” He cooed.

His pelvis rubbed against your clit. You felt the same tension winding within you. The fabric of your dress scratched between your bodies. 

Steve pushed himself up. He impaled you as he sat back and gripped your hips. You grabbed onto his wrists as he sped up. You cried out as he slammed into you. Hard. He jolted your entire body and the bed shook beneath you. The clap of your flesh bounced around the room as you squeezed his wrists in a silent plea.

“Hurts,” You gulped out. “Slow… slow.”

His hand came down on your chest and he stretched his fingers across you. He had you pinned as he leaned his weight into you. He didn’t seem to hear you, or perhaps he chose not to, and his groans added to the lurid cacophony. His thrusts grew sharper and more deliberate. 

And you felt the tension break suddenly. You slapped his arm as you came again and your hands grasped his thick thighs as you tried to hold him to you. He bent over you and snaked his arm beneath you. He lifted you in a single motion and bounced you against him.

“Again,” He urged. “Again.”

You rocked against him as the thrill began to wane but quickly rose again as the friction mounted between you. You untangled your arms from the straps and slung them over his shoulders. He grasped the dress and twisted until it was tight around you. He used it to guide you as your body acted in a lusted haze.

When you came again, your voice crackled and you threw your head back. Steve held you up and kept your body moving against him, one hand knotted in your dress and the other on your ass.

“Oh, oh,” He rasped. “Doll, I’m almost there.”

“Wha--” You struggled to understand anything as your mind was little more than stars. “What…” Your heart dropped but the buzz still radiated through you. “N-n-no.” 

He grunted and fell onto you. He crushed you against the mattress as his thrusts turned spasmodic. He groaned and you felt the heat seep into you as you wriggled beneath him. He held himself deep within you and slumped heavily over your body. His breath was trapped along the crook of your neck as he stilled.

You were silent as you stared at the ceiling. As you felt his weight over you. His body was a prison. Reality trickled along your spine as your sweat cooled and you lightly tapped his arm.

“Doll?” He breathed and nuzzled your cheek.

“Steve…” You quavered. “Steve… I’m not on… I’m not on anything.”

He lifted his head and looked down at you. He rocked his hips and you quivered.

“That’s alright, doll,” He purred. “I’ll take care of you.”

**💀**


End file.
